Sudden Changes
by AubreenaGreen
Summary: A new marriage law is put in place, and Hermione finds herself with the worst person she could have imagined. Will they end up falling for each other in the end? Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I can only dream. Rated T, but that may change later, just in case. ;)
1. Chapter 1

Hermione sat on the bed in her flat, thinking over what to wear. She hadn't been to the Burrow in close to two weeks, and she was hoping to look somewhat decent. She was really looking forward to seeing Harry, Ron, and Ginny today. Unknowingly, she had isolated herself from her friends, and she was desperately attempting to undo that.

It had been almost a year since the Battle of Hogwarts. They were still mourning over the deaths of Fred, Moody, Lupin, Tonks, and everyone else who perished in the horrible war, but it was starting to get easier for most of them.

Hermione stared at her wardrobe for a moment longer, before pulling out a simple, knee-length red dress, a black cardigan, a thin black scarf, and brown ankle boots. She quickly dressed herself, before pulling her hair out of her face into a simple ponytail, and adding a dab of mascara.

_Good enough_, she deemed, before grabbing her purse and apparating to just outside the Burrow.

As she stepped inside, she was greeted by a plethora of hugs, smiles, and friendly "Hello"s. A delightful smell wafted it's way from the kitchen, and Hermione breathed it in gratefully.

Looking around, she saw Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Percy, Ron, Ginny, and Harry, along with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. She noticed, however, that George was missing.

_Not surprising_, she thought to herself. He was never around anymore. Not after Fred.

"Why don't we all have a seat, so we can start dinner," called Mrs. Weasley from the kitchen.

Everyone murmured in agreement before sitting in a chair, Hermione wedging herself in between Harry and Ginny.

While they ate their dinner of chicken and rice with mashed potatoes, Hermione conversed with Ginny, Harry, and Ron about their lives, and caught up with the last two weeks.

Hermione was really lucky that she and Ron were still friends. After her relationship with him went awry, they agreed to try and go back to how they were before. In a normal situation, their friendship would have pretty much been terminated, but they had been close since they were eleven. There was no awkwardness now.

She learned that Harry and Ginny had finally set the date for their wedding, after a great number of arguments with Mrs. Weasley about her daughter's age. They were going to get married on Valentine's Day. Wow, was that cheesy! Nevertheless, she was happy for them.

Right as they were finishing up, and Mrs. Weasley was about to serve the pie, there was a knock at the door. Mrs. Weasley opened up the entryway to reveal Gerard Flannikey, the newly appointed head of the Department of Law Enforcement at the Ministry.

"Good evening, Gerard," Mr. Weasley called. "What can we do for you today?"

Flannikey smiled politely before taking a deep breath, and giving what was, no doubt, a very well-rehearsed speech. "I bring news from the Ministry," he started. "During the Battle of Hogwarts, too much magical blood was spilled. Not only that, but the number of witches and wizards are decreasing as the number of squibs grow higher. A new law has been set in place: all witches and wizards between the ages of 18 and 30 who are not currently engaged, married, or still in school will be matched with another witch or wizard. They will be required to become legally wed and produce a minimum of two magical children within a certain amount of time. There will be more details in a week's time. If you have any questions or concerns, please contact me or someone else in my department. All matches will be final. If you are engaged or married, please report that to us so there are no mistakes in the pairing. That will be all for tonight. Be prepared for more information in a week. Thank you, and have a nice night."

He smiled with false sincerity, and closed the door, before apparating out with a **pop**.

There were gasps all around the room while the news was sinking in.

Hermione's mind was racing. Who would she be paired with? Who would she have to be married to? Who would she be forced to raise children with? What if she was matched with someone who was 30? She was only 18! She was too young! Honestly, Hermione didn't know if she could wait a week for the information to come; she was too anxious.

Suddenly, she began to envy Harry and Ginny. They didn't have to go through any of this. Nor did Bill and Fleur, who were already married, or George and Angelina, his fiancee. They were safe from this new law.

* * *

A week had passed, and Hermione sat anxiously waiting on her cold bed. She had pulled her legs up to her head, and her chin rested in the crook formed by her knees, eyes closed, as she rocked back and forth in a weak attempt to calm herself.

Suddenly, there was a faint pecking noise outside her window. She looked up to see a tawny-brown owl from the Ministry waiting expectantly on her windowsill, a letter resting in its small beak.

Hermione quickly leaped up, and opened the window. Retrieving the letter, she gave the owl a quick stroke before sending it off.

She was a bit hesitant about opening the letter at first. After waiting all week, it all seemed too real; this letter held her future.

Taking a deep breath, she tore open the envelope, pulling out the letter.

_To Hermione Jean Granger,_

_As you have heard, there is a marriage law being passed. This is not a punishment; it is merely to increase the magical population. We apologize for any inconvenience that this may have caused you. You have been assigned a match, which will be shown later on in the letter. After today, you will have exactly six months to become legally wed to your assigned partner. The deadline for this marriage will be October 1st of this year. After the wedding, you will have exactly eighteen months to bear your first magical child. If a problem arises, and you give birth to a muggle or squib, or there is a different sort of complication, we will grant an extra six months to bear the child. After the birth of your first magical child, you will be given another eighteen months to produce your second magical child. If a problem occurs, the same rules stated will apply._

_There will be no change in whoever you are matched with. You must remain with them for a minimum of five years after marriage, or you will be sent to Azkaban for a minimum of six months, or your wand will be snapped. However, if you feel unsafe with your match, you may contact the Ministry, and an exception will be made upon inspection._

_Your match for this new law will be Draco Lucius Malfoy. _

_Please contact us with any comments or concerns._

_Hoping you are well,_

_Gerard Flannikey _

**What do you think so far? I will try to update at least once a week. R&amp;R please! Thank you!**


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, and reopened them, hoping that it was just her mind playing tricks on her. After it didn't work, she began to blink rapidly, but it still did nothing. She read, and reread, and turned the letter over, hoping that this was all some kind of sick joke. She _couldn't _have been paired with... _Malfoy_!

Her heart sank. She could not imagine anyone who could've been worse to be paired up with, except maybe his old follower from school, Goyle, seeing as Crabbe had perished in his own fire. Malfoy at least had his own mind; not that he used it for anything good.

In a fit of rage that was completely un-Hermione, she wiped everything off of her coffee table, momentarily satisfied when she heard the crash. Unfortunately, she immediately regretted it, and quickly used her wand to repair everything.

She had no idea what to do; she was just so damn frustrated! Not even frustrated, angry! How could the Ministry do this to her? Why couldn't Malfoy be paired up with someone from Slytherin? Like Pansy Parkinson, for example! They were both vile and cruel; they'd be great together!

Needing a little time to clear her head, Hermione stepped outside, and took a breather. Placing her hands on the back of her head, she began to pace, one of her many habits when she was nervous; the other quirks that she'd noticed about herself when she was anxious were mindlessly twirling her hair, and biting her lower lip.

After taking a deep breath, she went back inside her flat to face the music.

Hermione had no idea when they would have to meet and talk about this. They _had _to talk about this. They were due to marry in six months, for Merlin's sake!

Feeling she had no other option, she wrote him.

_Malfoy,_

_You must have gotten the letter, I presume. Since we obviously have to talk about this, I suggest we meet at The Three Broomsticks tomorrow at 5:00. Write back if inconvenient for you. Believe me when I say I hate this as much as you do._

_Hermione_

After rereading it twice, she disapparated to the public owlery in Diagon Alley, given that she did not have an owl of her own. She supposed she'd have to get one soon.

After paying the fee of two sickles, she attached her letter to a beautiful brown and white owl, and watched as it flew off into the sky.

* * *

By 4:00 the next day, Hermione had not heard back from Malfoy, so she assumed he would be coming.

She figured that she had better start getting ready then, and try to get there early, so that she could get a seat without them having to wait in awkward silence.

It had been a bit chilly when she had stepped outside, so she put on a loose brown sweater, blue jeans, and her favorite red beanie. Grabbing the boots that she had wore to the Burrow last week, and wrapping a lightly-colored scarf around her neck, she added a bit of mascara, and then figured she should start to head out.

She apparated to the apparition point, which was luckily only a block down from The Three Broomsticks, and began to walk over. When she made it inside, she scanned the room to make sure he wasn't there already, and then sat down at an empty table. Luckily, there wasn't too much business, so she didn't have to wait for a seat. She looked at her watch: 4:45. He'd hopefully be there soon.

She got up to order a butterbeer before sitting back at her table and waiting.

After five minutes of waiting by herself and sipping her warm drink, a scornful-looking blonde walked into the pub. When his grey-eyed gaze rested on her, his face morphed into a scowl. Nevertheless, he briskly walked over to her table, before stopping at the seat across from her. He looked a bit hesitant at taking it, as if just sitting within five feet of her would make him physically ill. After a long pause and a sigh, he quickly sat down, not wanting to waste any time.

"So, what do you want to talk about, Granger?" he asked impatiently, not looking her in the eye, but instead taking the time to glance around the pub as if he'd never been there before.

Hermione gave him one of her famous "Are you serious?" looks before saying, "I think you know what I want to talk about, Malfoy."

"Humor me," he said, meeting her gaze with a cold, hard scowl.

He was beginning to get on Hermione's nerves. "You can't pretend like this isn't happening," she started. He rolled his eyes, huffing. "You know as well as I do that the Ministry is going to force us to do this."

His scowl became larger. "This is just so unfair," he said. "Out of all the witches in London, I just HAVE to get paired with the most insufferable witch of her time! I can't believe they're making me marry a - well - you!"

Hermione reached across the table and slapped him on his left arm, drawing the attention from a few strangers.

With cat-like reflexes, he grabbed her arm, sending a fierce glare at her that sent chills down her spine. "Don't you _ever _touch me again, do you understand?"

Hermione nodded cautiously, and he quickly released her from his grip, wiping his hand on a napkin as if she had infected him or something.

"Look," Hermione said impatiently after a tense pause. "I'm just as pissed off about this as you are, but this is happening, Malfoy! We can't pretend this is nothing!"

Malfoy glared at her. "You realize what this means, don't you?" he roared. "You're going to be having my children. We're going to be stuck with each other for FIVE YEARS!"

It was like he was taunting her. But it was the truth. "They never said we had to live together," Hermione pointed out after another harsh silence. "We could just..." she gulped. "Get _it _over with, and we wouldn't even have to speak to each other."_  
_

He nodded in agreement. "Is that what you want?" he asked, still scowling.

Hermione scowled. "Since when do _you _care about what _I _want?" she scoffed.

Malfoy glowered at her. "I. Don't," he spat. "But would you just answer the damn question?"

She angrily shook her head. "What I _want _is to not be forced into a marriage with such an insensitive prick. But you can't always get what you want, can you? Is this what _you _want?"

He shrugged and then scowled again. "This is so unfair," he whispered.

Hermione nodded. "So when do you want to... you know... get married?" she asked, the words sounding foreign in her own mouth.

"Oh yeah," he said. "_That."_

Hermione nodded. "On one hand, I want to just get it over with. On the other, I want all the time we can get before we have to... you know."

Malfoy agreed. "I don't want to do a big wedding. We should just sign the papers and not make it a huge deal."

"I agree," she said. "I think we should plan on doing all of that in, say, three months. That should give us enough time to sort everything else out. We can always change it, anyways."

He nodded, and stood up. "So it's settled. Three months. Owl me when you want to discuss details."

Hermione nodded and stood up as well. Malfoy began to leave, but she stopped him.

"Malfoy," she said. He stopped and turned around, grey eyes meeting brown. She gulped and swallowed her pride. "If we're going to be married and... have children and all, I don't want to go on being enemies. We should deal with this in a civil manner. Now, I'm not saying we're ever going to be friends. But maybe... acquaintances if nothing else?"

He nodded. "I suppose. See you around, Granger," he said with a small and forced wave, before walking out the door.

She forced a wave back before finishing up her now cold drink, and walking to the apparition point to disapparate back home to her flat.

What a day.

**I know I said I would update every week, but I really just wanted to keep going. How should they fall in love? Should it be before or after they get married? Should they still end up getting married the way they just planned? At the moment, I'm kind of just winging this. I'm open to any suggestions, though I have a few ideas of my own. Thanks for reading, and please leave a review!**


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione awoke with a start to a strange tapping noise. She sat up frantically, only to realize that it was just Pigwidgeon, Ron's owl, waiting on her windowsill, an envelope clamped in his beak.

She groggily stood up, brushing her matted-beyond-help hair out of her face, and slowly maneuvered over to the window. When she opened it, Pig flew right on in, landing on the lamp sitting on her coffee table with an eager look.

As Hermione pried the letter out of Pig's mouth and began to read, the owl began to fly around her flat, exploring.

_Hi Hermione,_

_Mum wants to know if you'd like to come over for dinner tonight, and we can talk about the matches and everything. She will p__robably throw a fit if you don't come. She's always complaining that she doesn't see you enough since you and Ron split._

_Please come over! It's really boring over here!_

_Love you as always,_

_Ginny_

Hermione sighed with a tired smile before grabbing a piece of parchment and a quill, and writing back.

_Ginny,_

_I'd love to come over. It's very quiet over here, what with just me and Crookshanks. I have SO much to tell you - you won't BELIEVE who I got matched with! I'll come over a little early, and we can talk._

_See you in a few hours,_

_Hermione_

Hermione stroked Pig a few times before handing him an owl treat, followed by her letter, and opening the window again so he could leave. She watched him fly until he was out of view, almost wishing that she was him, not having a care in the world, able to fly away; he wasn't being forced into something as ridiculous as a _marriage law_.

* * *

Hermione glanced down at her watch: 4:00. She probably needed to start to get ready so that she could get to the Burrow a bit early to talk to Ginny.

She was feeling too lazy to dress up, so she just put on her favorite jeans and a dark purple sweater. She grabbed a brown scarf and some black and white tennis shoes. Before grabbing her bag and apparating out, she quickly ran a brush through her tangled mat of hair. She landed outside of the Burrow with a loud and distinctive **pop**.

When she entered the house, Mrs. Weasley hadn't even begun to set up for dinner, and no one else was there.

Trying to remain unnoticed for the moment to not get bombarded by questions about her match, Hermione quickly tiptoed upstairs to Ginny's room.

When Ginny saw her enter the room, her eyes lit up like a little kid's. Thankfully, she skipped all the boring small talk that Mrs. Weasley would have subjected her to, and got straight down to business.

"Show me the letter," she demanded, extending her hand to her bushy-haired friend.

Hermione obediently handed over the piece of parchment. She watched her friend scan the item as her eyes enlarged in surprise once she got to the end.

"You have to marry... Malfoy?!" she exclaimed, looking at Hermione with wide eyes.

Hermione nodded, biting her lip. She started to pace again. "I don't know if I can do this, Ginny," she confessed. "I mean, we have to stay together for at least five years!"

Ginny smirked before pointing out, "Not only that, but you have to... do the do with him at LEAST twice, assuming you get pregnant after just one time each."

Hermione looked down at her with pleading in her eyes. "That's not helping, Ginny!" she cried.

"I just can't believe you got _Draco Freaking Malfoy_! I mean, out of ALL the wizards in London, what's the likelihood of that?! I just can't imagine anyone worse to get!" she exclaimed.

Hermione began to laugh awkwardly. "I know, right? It's ridiculous!"

Ginny began to laugh, too, and soon, they were just sitting on her bed, laughing at Hermione's predicament as a brief distraction.

After a few minutes, Hermione stopped. "How am I going to tell everyone? I'm being forced to marry the one person that Harry and Ron hate most! They'll go nuts!"

Ginny shrugged. "They'll get used to it. And if they don't, kill them," she said with a wink.

"Great problem solving, Ginny," Hermione chuckled.

"Dinner!" Mrs. Weasley called from downstairs, and Hermione began to panic again.

Ginny strutted out of the room, Hermione following nervously behind. She still hadn't decided how she was going to deliver the news that she was marrying everyone's least favorite Slytherin.

_I have something important to say to you all. Because of the new law, I am being forced to marry Draco Malfoy. I know it's hard to believe, and... And... *wipes tear from eye*_

No, that would sound stupid and fake. She could go for a more casual approach.

_Oh, by the way, I'm marrying Draco Malfoy. No big deal. By the way, the food tastes great!_

She sighed, and decided she would just wing it. What could go wrong?

**Keep reviewing as always! If my computer starts working, I'll try and have an update tomorrow or Monday. Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione started down the stairs, pausing at the bottom step. She took a deep breath and quickly went over how she was planning on breaking the news of her match, before continuing into the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley was laying out dinner.

Mrs. Weasley barely glanced at her when she said, "Oh good, you're already here," and practically shoved her over to the dining table, where she tentatively took a seat between Ron and Ginny.

Only she, Ginny, Ron, Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, and Charlie were there so far. She figured the others were due to arrive soon.

Ron nudged her. "So, who'd you get?" he pestered.

Hermione didn't look at him. "You'll see soon enough," she said stiffly, sitting up straight.

Ron was about to speak again, but right then, Harry appeared, and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief; she _really _didn't want to answer any of these questions, and was dreading the reveal-all that was soon to come. Ron quickly turned his attention to him.

Soon, everyone was at the Burrow, sitting at the dining table, even George, who had brought Angelina. Hermione noticed the dark circles under his eyes. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. Hermione wished she could have said something, but what are you supposed say to someone who has lost their best friend in the entire world?

Hermione was suddenly distracted by food. Mrs. Weasley had prepared one of her favorite meals: beef casserole, salad, and rolls, and Hermione began to eat hungrily.

All the while, Harry kept pestering her about who she got matched with. Hermione kept saying she'd say later, and Ginny kept flashing her a knowing grin that made her want to slap the freckles off of her ginger friend.

Once everyone had finished eating, Mrs. Weasley began to clean up, walking around and snatching up the dishes from right in front of them.

"I think now is a good time to reveal who everyone got matched with, before we serve dessert," she said while she was walking out of the kitchen, taking a seat. "Charlie, dear, you first."

Charlie nodded and took a deep breath. "Rosalind Minkey," he revealed. Hermione had never heard of her.

"Wonderful!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. "You'll have to tell us all about her later. Percy, you next."

"I was matched with Jessamyn Crowl," Percy said nervously. Jessamyn Crowl was two years older than Hermione, and a Ravenclaw. She was average height, and had average looks, but was highly intelligent, or so she'd heard. She didn't really stand out to Hermione, but she seemed like a somewhat good match for Percy.

"Ooh!" Mrs. Weasley cheered. "Ron, love, who'd you get?"

"I... uh... well... I got Pansy Parkinson," he spluttered, and then looked around the room anxiously to see everyone's reactions.

Hermione spat out her drink, earning an unfriendly glare from Ron. Still, she felt somewhat better. She wasn't the only one being forced to marry an undesirable Slytherin.

When everyone turned their attention to her, she realized it was her turn to reveal her match.

She forced a cough, her pathetic attempt at stalling.

"I... Well... I got..." she started hesitantly, completely forgetting her initial plan.

"Go on, dear," Mrs. Weasley urged.

"Malfoy," she blurted out. She tried to regain her composure by sitting up straight, taking a deep breath, and trying again. "I was matched up with Draco Malfoy."

Ron fell off of his chair, the drink he was holding coming with him, and Harry had to clench his fists to stop himself from breaking anything.

"You're joking, right?" Harry spat, not looking her in the eye.

She sighed, feeling defeated. "I wish."

Mrs. Weasley shut everyone up before saying, "Well... that's very nice, dear. Perhaps... Perhaps you could invite him to dinner one day." When Ron snickered after returning to his seat, she sent him a deathly glare at him before addressing the rest of the table. "That goes for all of you. These people are joining our family. We want them to feel welcome."

"Do we?" Hermione muttered under her breath.

Apparently Mrs. Weasley heard her, because she gave her a stern glare. "Invite him!" she ordered before maneuvering back into the kitchen to serve dessert.

* * *

Hermione sat in her little flat, wondering how exactly to start this letter.

_Hey,_

_So, I know you hate me, but do you want to have dinner with a family you hate even more? _

Wow, was this going to be difficult.

In the end, she just decided to go with it.

_Malfoy,_

_I know you have strong feelings concerning the Weasley family, but Mrs. Weasley is requesting that you come to one of the dinners so she can get to know you, and make you feel like "part of the family". You don't actually have to come if you don't want to (and I assume you won't), but she made me ask. Let me know if, for whatever reason, you'd actually like to come. I believe that's all._

_I guess we'll talk later,_

_Hermione_

She apparated to the owlery, and delivered the letter after paying the fee.

And then she waited.

* * *

The next day, she was in the middle of cleaning up the living room when she received an owl.

_Granger,_

_Believe me when I say I would detest coming for dinner. However, according to my mother, I would be delighted to come. She's also insisting that you come over, as she has never personally met you. You're going to be family, and the mother to her grandchildren, and blah blah blah. If you say no, I'll never hear the end of it, so if you wouldn't mind, you should come for dinner sometime. Fyi, Tuesday would be perfectly convenient for you. See you soon, I suppose. _

_Owl me when dinner at... the Weasley's would be convenient._

_Draco_

Wow, ok. Hermione certainly had not been expecting that. And apparently Tuesday was now convenient. Luckily, she didn't have any actual plans.

She grabbed a piece of parchment, and began to write back.

_Malfoy,_

_I would apparently love to come on Tuesday. If you're serious about coming for dinner, you could come tomorrow, I suppose. Let's meet at the Three Broomsticks at 4:30 tomorrow, and then we can just apparate together. Hope you're looking forward to seeing Harry and Ron ;). See you soon._

_Sincerely,_

_Hermione_

She handed the grey owl her letter, before sending it off with a pat.

She figured that she had better tell Mrs. Weasley that Malfoy was coming over for dinner the following night, because wouldn't that just be a lovely surprise?

What was she getting herself into?!

**Keep it coming with those ideas! Thanks for reading! **


	5. Chapter 5

4:00

It was time to get ready, and Hermione seriously had no idea what to wear. Should she dress nice? Should she dress casual? This wasn't a date or anything, she would NEVER date Malfoy, and this was only dinner at the Weasleys, but this wasn't just _dinner at the Weasleys_ and she didn't want to look like a total slob or anything.

She would just go for an "in the middle" kind of look.

The dress that Hermione decided on was purple with three-quarter length sleeves. It was fitted at the waist with a thin black belt, and the skirt fell a bit past her knees. It was covered in lace, and could work for either fancy or casual, she supposed.

She slipped into some black flats, and went to the bathroom.

Hermione tried numerous different hairstyles, each one looking worse than the last. Where was Ginny when she needed her? Eventually, she decided to leave her bushy hair down. She added some mascara, and decided that she was good to go.

She apparated and walked over to the front of The Three Broomsticks, and was prepared to wait, but Malfoy was already standing there, looking impatient as always.

He wore a green button-down shirt, which was tucked into his slacks. He must have dressed like she did. Not exactly casual, but not dressed for a black-tie event, though he was certainly sporting his Slytherin colors.

When he saw her, he sighed and held out his arm. "Shall we?" he asked unenthusiastically.

"That's the spirit!" Hermione chirped sarcastically, reaching out and tapping his nose. He instinctively jerked his head back with a scowl. Hermione grinned to herself before taking his arm.

They quickly arrived at the front of the Burrow, but she noticed that Malfoy seemed anxious about going in, though he had every reason to be.

"This feels weird," he said, beginning to pace. They must have shared that habit.

"You're telling me," she mumbled to herself, and Malfoy flashed her an almost pleading look, but it was gone before it was there, replaced by the oh-so-famous Malfoy scowl.

After another awkward pause, Hermione opened the door, and pulled him in. "Oh, come ON!" she said, annoyed.

Suddenly, all eyes were on them, and Hermione blushed crimson, embarrassed by her actions.

She tried to make eye contact with Harry and Ron, but they were too busy glaring at Malfoy. Then she realized that her arm was still linked with his, and she quickly jerked it free, looking at the ground, her face red-hot with embarrassment.

Turning away from the others, she awkwardly sat down on the two-seater couch nearest to the door, Draco next to her, though he put as much distance between them as he could.

"Is it always this awkward?" he whispered into her ear, twiddling his thumbs nervously in a pathetic attempt to distract himself.

"What do you think?" she shot back hastily.

He opened his mouth to say something more, but just then, Mrs. Weasley came in.

"Oh," she said when she saw them. "How... lovely of you to join us, Draco!" It was hard to miss the forced cheeriness in her voice.

She knew Molly was trying to make them feel less awkward, because she was glaring at the others who were still staring at Malfoy like a piece of gum they found on the bottom of their shoe.

Soon, everyone began to join the two of them at the dinner table. Everyone but Ginny completely ignored them, even Ron and Harry. Ginny didn't even glance towards Draco, however. Not that he minded; he was never extremely fond with... well, anyone that was present in the room at that moment.

This had to have been the longest dinner of Hermione's life.

* * *

It was the day after the dinner with the Weasleys, and Hermione was getting ready for what was soon to be, most likely, the worst dinner of her life, with the Malfoys of all people. Boy, was she not looking forward to this.

And what the hell was she supposed to wear to this thing? She had to make a good impression on Narcissa, otherwise she'd make Hermione's life hell. She'd already failed with Lucius; he probably still looked down at her like she was scum.

Hermione decided that her safest choice was to be fancier than she had been yesterday, but not so fancy that she was trying too hard. But how was she supposed to do that?

After fifteen minutes ten dresses, she ended up picking out a medium-length purple dress that gripped her snugly at the waist, and flowed freely below.

She enchanted her hair to stay flatter than normal, to make herself look a bit classier, and added some mascara. Her shoes were black heels, but not the kinds that were impossible to walk in. Merlin knows what would happen if she were to fall in the middle of dinner with prestigious purebloods.

She hoped she looked good enough to satisfy the Malfoys, because she honestly didn't know what else she could've done.

Taking a deep breath, she apparated right outside the Malfoy manor, as Draco told her she would not be able to apparate directly inside due to wards. That was fine with her; she'd feel even more awkward just popping in out of the blue.

As if on command, Malfoy opened the door, inviting her in, looking nervous. He was in a similar outfit as the night before, but he had a jacket on this time. When she was close enough, he linked his arm with his.

She looked at him questioningly. "Don't ask," he muttered, blushing slightly.

As he was leading her to the dining hall, he began instructing her on how to act. "Smile, be charming, try not to sound too smart, try not to sound too dumb, be polite, don't make jokes, talk only when you're spoken to, and most importantly, _don't _talk about the muggle world. Got it?"

She nodded. "So be boring," she said sarcastically.

"Pretty much," he responded.

Right before they entered the room, Draco stopped them.

"Big smiles!" he said with fake cheeriness.

Hermione smiled with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, but Malfoy stopped her. "Not that big!" he exclaimed, and her face fell.

Ignoring that, Hermione took a deep breath, before smiling in the most charming way that she could, and they walked in.

**I think the whole next chapter is going to be just the dinner. Get excited! Sorry it took so long to update, by the way. Finals are next week, and I'm seriously stressing.**


	6. Chapter 6

Narcissa was dressed in a flowing green dress that swept the floor, and stared intently at Hermione as she entered the room, as if she were analyzing all her weaknesses; if she was anything like her son, she wouldn't rule that out as a possibility. Hermione began to tug on the end of her dress, fearing it was too short to be appropriate. Lucius was dressed in a silver suit with a green tie, sitting up straighter than Hermione thought possible, his face adorned with his famous scowl.

Maybe she should have worn green...

As Malfoy was leading her to her seat, she caught her foot on a chair leg, and fell over. Her face ran crimson with embarrassment as she heaved herself back up, Malfoy smirking all the while. As far as first impressions go, she was not doing a great job.

Frankly, Hermione was relieved when they had made it to their seats.

Narcissa clapped her hands, and Hermione stared at the food that had appeared in awe. She had expected the Malfoys to dine on the souls of small children, but not on chicken! On her plate, there was a chicken breast, mashed potatoes, and cooked cauliflower. Plain as the food was, Hermione wanted to dig in right away. She refrained from doing so, however, when she noticed that no one else had touched their food.

"So, you're a mudblood," was the first thing she heard Malfoy's mother say.

Hermione glanced over at Draco, pleading him for an answer with her eyes.

He shrugged, gesturing with his eyebrows and a cock of his head to his mother.

"Uh, yes, yes I am," was all she could muster to say.

Narcissa didn't respond, but just pursed her lips. All of a sudden, everyone began closing their eyes and whispering a ritual that she could not hear. Hermione wasn't sure if she should close her eyes, too, but instead, she just sat there awkwardly.

"Let's begin," was the next thing Hermione heard Narcissa say, however, no one moved. She was surprised to find out that they were all staring at her expectantly.

Her eyes flickered over to Malfoy in desperation, and he whispered out of the corner of his mouth, "You're the guest. You're supposed to take the first bite."

Hermione nodded at their weird tradition and cautiously picked up her fork, taking a scoop of mashed potatoes. But in her nervousness, her hand slipped and the potatoes went flying, hitting Lucius square in the eye.

"Sorry!" she squeaked, turning crimson. She glanced over at Draco, and was annoyed to see that he was silently laughing at her misfortune. However, when he caught his mother's eye, he stopped abruptly.

Lucius wiped his eye in disgust, but didn't say anything, so they ate for five minutes in awkward silence, before Hermione tried breaking the tension.

"It's," she started, her voice cracking. "It's a nice place you've got here."

Draco looked at her with wide eyes, shaking his head "no", but it was too late.

Narcissa stared stiffly at her with an unreadable emotion. "I know," was all she said.

"Ok then..." she muttered to herself, returning to sawing open her chicken breast.

"So" Narcissa said after yet another awkward pause. "When are you two getting married?"

Luckily, it was Malfoy that answered his mother, because Hermione didn't think that, after this luck, she'd be able to do anything else without embarrassing herself further.

"Three months. We were planning on just signing the papers, and not having a large ceremony," Malfoy responded.

This seemed to anger his mother, for she slammed her fork onto the table. "Of _course_ you're having a large ceremony! This will be the only wedding you will ever have! You _will_ be having a large wedding, and I don't want to hear otherwise."

Malfoy looked as if he wanted to argue, but thought better of it.

Unfortunately, Hermione made the decision to try and reason with her. "But, Mrs. Malfoy, we don't want-"

"I don't give a_ damn_ what you want!" she shouted.

"Mother-" Draco began.

"Silence!" she shushed her son angrily. "If I had my way, all of you mudbloods would be extinct. But now, my only son has been given the unfortunate task of marrying one of you lot. Nevertheless, this WILL be a special night for him! I don't want to hear another word out of your mouth! Do I make myself clear?"

By now, Narcissa was shaking with anger. Hermione gave a little nod, her face flushed.

"Now get out!" she shouted, pointing to the exit to the room.

Hermione practically ran out the door, tears threatening to fall, not that she would let them.

She waited for a few minutes for Malfoy to come running out, comforting her and telling her it was all going to be okay, but he never came. Not that she was surprised; he was Malfoy after all. She quickly apparated to her little flat.

Collapsing on her small, cold bed, she cried until she fell asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**I apologize for such the long wait! I'm not going to waste time on excuses, but I promise this won't happen again!**

Hermione awoke the next morning to a slight chill and a headache. She glanced over to her window to see it wide open, the breeze flowing through it freely. Shivering and denying being awake, she pulled the blankets up to her chin, but gave up trying to fall asleep after ten minutes.

She sat up groggily and pushed the tangled hair out of her face, when she noticed a letter casually resting on her nightstand. She figured that whichever owl had dropped it off had just flown right through her stupidly-left-open window.

Hermione stretched her arm out to grab the letter, not wanting to leave the comforts of her blankets, before plopping back down on her bed and opening it.

_Granger,_

_We need to talk. Meet me by the Three Broomsticks tomorrow at 2:00._

_Draco_

If she was being honest, Hermione really did not want to speak with Draco right now; she was still quite shaken from the night before. Wait a second... how long had she been referring to him as Draco, even just in thoughts?

Shaking her head, she glanced at her clock: _9:30_

Hermione supposed that she could relax at the Burrow today, and just clear her head, which was currently throbbing painfully.

She quickly hopped in the shower and began to wash away all remnants of last night. She also hoped that the soothing lathering of her hair might lessen her headache, but it was to no avail.

Still, Hermione felt much more relaxed when she stepped out. Wrapping her hair in a towel, she began to get ready.

Knowing Mrs. Weasley would insist on feeding her, Hermione only ate a piece of toast with peach preserves for breakfast.

Hermione was _not _going to dress up today; she honestly just wanted to relax and spend time with Ginny. She opted for her black leggings and a comfortable, three-sizes-too-large blue t-shirt.

Quickly running a pointless brush through her tangled hair, Hermione disapparated with a pop, landing right in front of the Burrow. With a big yawn, she pushed open the creaky door.

Inside, there were rags flying and sponges scrubbing, but what really caught Hermione's eye were Ginny's feet sticking out from the table she was underneath scrubbing, and they were topped off with bright red slippers.

Squealing in delight, Hermione kicked off her shoes and grabbed the slippers, slipping them on her feet. Giggling like a first-year, she clicked her heels together. "There's no place like home! There's no place like home! There's no place like home!" she exclaimed.

Ginny slid out from under the table, a look of utter confusion plastered on her ridiculously freckled face.

"Muggle movie," she explained to her friend.

Ginny nodded, giving Hermione an odd look, before extending a hand out to her. "Slippers," she instructed blatantly.

After handing them over, Ginny plopped down on the couch, Hermione following suit.

"So, what's up?" Ginny asked. "Wasn't your dinner with the _Malfoys _last night?"

"Unfortunately," Hermione replied solemnly. When Ginny raised an eyebrow, Hermione began to elaborate. "Oh, Ginny, it was _awful_!"

After retelling the events of the previous night, Ginny engulfed her in a hug, which Hermione accepted without hesitance, but Ginny broke away after just a few seconds, an eager look on her face.

"Guess what!" she exclaimed excitedly. Without waiting for an answer, she continued. "Harry and I are getting married in two weeks! With the new law and everything, we kind of had to move it up, so... we did!"

Hermione's eyes widened, and she hugged her friend. "Ginny, that's wonderful!"

"I know!" Ginny responded enthusiastically. "We're making the announcement at dinner tonight. We were going to invite you to come, but, seeing as you're already here... Goodness, Mum is going to throw a fit! But oh, Hermione, I'm so nervous! I still have to find a dress, make arrangements, send invitations-"

"You'll be fine," Hermione reassured her friend, who looked like she was on the verge of hyperventilating.

"Hermione, will you be my maid of honor?" Ginny blurted out suddenly.

"I'd love to, Ginny!" Hermione cried excitedly. "I can't believe it! Thank you!" She engulfed her friend in a hug.

"Oh, and..." Ginny started after pulling away, biting her lip.

"What is it?" Hermione questioned.

"I'm pregnant!" she whispered nervously, grinning.

"Oh my _god, _Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed in disbelief. "How far along are you?"

"Five weeks! Oh Hermione, I'm so worried that by the time the wedding comes, I'll be _huge_!"

"Ginny," she started with a matter-of-fact tone. "At your size, I'd be utterly shocked if you even started showing by then."

Ginny let out a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness. Harry and I decided to tell them after the wedding, because... you know..."

Hermione nodded and hugged her friend again. "I'm so happy for you!"

"Oh," Ginny said. "I almost forgot. Harry said it was ok if Malfoy wanted to come to the ceremony with you, as your date or something."

Hermione shifted in her seat uncomfortably. "I don't know about that... I don't really know where we stand after last night..."

Ginny nudged her bushy-haired friend. "You're overreacting. It'll all blow over, don't worry."

"I hope," Hermione replied.

* * *

The Weasley family was ecstatic at Ginny and Harry's big announcement, and after dinner, Hermione tried to excuse herself to go home. Ginny, however, had other ideas.

"Oh, Hermione, you HAVE to stay!" she pleaded, Hermione finally caving in.

Ginny squealed before ushering her upstairs for what she called a "girl's night", or in this case, spilling all the details regarding Draco and her marriage, plus some unwanted information regarding Ginny's sex life.

"So, are you excited?" Ginny prompted as they curled up on her bed.

"For?" Hermione asked mindlessly.

"Your wedding, dummy! Are you excited?"

Hermione looked at her friend incredulously. "Are you serious?" she starting. "I'm absolutely dreading it. I just can't imagine..."

"Doing the do with Malfoy?" Ginny finished, earning a face full of pillow. "Pleh," she spat, pushing Hermione away. "It's true, though. Have you not even thought about it? You _know_ it's going to have to happen eventually."

"I _know_, Ginny," Hermione stressed. "I just... I don't want to even have to consider that right now. Oh Ginny, I'm scared! Of all people, why did I have to get matched with _him_?"

Ginny didn't respond, but merely hugged her bushy-haired friend as she began sobbing into her shoulder. "It'll all be okay," she cooed, rubbing Hermione's back in a soothing motion. "He's not so bad." Hermione knew she was just saying that to make her feel better, but she supposed she still needed it.

After that, Ginny made sure to avoid the topic of Malfoy and the marriage, until Hermione mentioned that she was meeting him tomorrow.

"Like a date?!" she squealed excitedly.

"No," Hermione responded. "He just wants to talk about yest-"

"We need to find you something to wear. I'm going to dress you. You are going to be my living doll," Ginny said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Ginny, no, it's not a da-" Hermione protested.

"What should we do with your hair? I'm thinking an updo of some sort," Ginny continued.

Hermione sighed and gave up as her friend rambled on. She didn't have much of a choice at this point, just as long as she wasn't forced to wear heels.

* * *

"I feel like I'm going to prom," Hermione grumbled as Ginny cast spell after spell on her hair.

Hermione knew that she probably wasn't going to wear whatever it was that Ginny had put her in, so she was merely humoring her friend.

Finally Ginny was done, and Hermione was allowed to look.

Her hair was pulled back with a series of braids that intertwined with each other, forming a knot at the back of her head, the rest of her curls flowing freely after that. Her face was adorned with light makeup that brought out her features. But it was the dress that Hermione was staring at in awe. It was red with capped sleeves, with a sweetheart neckline, and gathered at the waist with a silver embroidery on the side. It was gorgeous.

"Oh, Ginny. This dress is gorgeous!" Hermione cried.

Ginny grinned smugly. "I know," was all she replied with.

"I don't think I'm going to wear it for today, but it is truly beautiful," Hermione told her with a twirl.

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Do you want it? I got it at a Christmas gift exchange, but I've never worn it. Not my style."

Hermione shuffled her feet. "I don't know... are you sure?"

"Take it," Ginny told her. "It was made for you."

"Oh Ginny, thank you!" Hermione exclaimed, embracing her friend.

"No problem, but what are you going to wear?" Ginny pushed.

Hermione sighed. "For the last time, _it's not a date. _He just wants to talk, presumably about Tuesday. It's not romantic in any way."

Ginny sighed. "_Fine_! But I'm still not letting you out in jeans or anything."

_11:30_

Two and a half hours to go. Two and a half hours to plan out what the bloody hell she was going to say to him.

Two and a half hours to figure everything out.


	8. Chapter 8

"What about this?"

Ginny looked at the outfit Hermione was holding with a distasteful expression. "Hermione, are you serious? A _turtleneck_? I know you insist this isn't a date, but would it hurt to show a _little _cleavage?!" she demanded exasperatedly.

Hermione sighed, and set the shirt down, picking another up at random. They had been doing this for an hour, and she was going insane. Frankly, Hermione wouldn't have minded showing up in a bunny suit at this point. "This one?" she asked tiredly.

Ginny looked at the blouse, and her eyes lit up. "That's the one!" she exclaimed. "And we'll pair it with..." She began to tear up her closet, before she remembered that she was a witch. "_Accio _black skirt!"

A flared, knee-length black skirt flew into her hand, and she held it up for Hermione to see, a grin plastered on her face. "_This_!" She held it up against the shirt, and Hermione couldn't help but agree. The blouse was a thick-strapped floral button-down that matched nicely with the skirt.

Ginny squealed in excitement before forcing her friend into the clothing. After some slight adjustments in terms of size, Hermione was ready - or so she thought.

"Shoes!" Ginny shrieked, running Hermione over as she made a dash for her closet.

"No!" Hermione shrieked back in an equally shrill tone of voice, pushing herself up from the floor.

"Yes," she replied bluntly before pulling out an entire shelf of shoes, shoes, and more shoes.

"How about these?" Ginny inquired, holding up a pair of toe-less red stilettos.

"How about no?" Hermione responded sarcastically, picking up a pair of shoes herself. "These are nice."

Ginny glanced up at the sandals Hermione was holding, and shook her head. "Honestly Hermione, I love you, but you are hopeless."

Hermione lightly whacked Ginny on the arm with the sandals before returning them to the shelf.

"I know what you need," Ginny started, perking up. "Boots!"

"Yeah, I guess that would be ni-" Hermione started, but was cut off as Ginny threw a pair of shoes at Hermione, knocking her over once again.

Pushing the boots off of her, she sat up, before examining them. The first thing she noticed was the five-inch heel. Not to mention that they would reach all the way up her thighs. Shaking her head, she handed them back to her friend, who was mindlessly sorting through her collection of footwear.

Laughing to herself, she picked up a pair of brown ankle boots with buckles on the side. "What about these?" she inquired thoughtfully.

Ginny glanced up, and her eyes widened. "Forget what I said about you being hopeless; those are _perfect_!" she squealed. "Try them on! Try them on!" she encouraged, and Hermione hastily stepped into the boots. They _were_ perfect.

"Have I ever mentioned how glad I am that we have the same sized feet?" Hermione asked jokingly. "I know we have magic and all, but it's just so bloody convenient!"

Ginny murmured something that sounded somewhat similar to an agreement before returning to the mess she had made in her room.

"How do you have so many shoes, anyways?" Hermione questioned. She was astonished at the size of her friend's closet, especially considering the Weasleys were a relatively poor family.

Ginny turned to look at her friend in bewilderment. "I have absolutely _no idea_!" she exclaimed. "I swear, it's like a new pair appears every night!"

"Maybe you're cursed!" Hermione jested in a mock-serious tone.

"Maybe," Ginny responded tiredly, returning to her task.

"I'm going to go see if Harry and Ron are still here," Hermione said, standing up. She still had another hour before she was supposed to meet Draco. Ginny mumbled something inaudible that Hermione didn't catch, and Hermione began to head downstairs.

When she reached the kitchen, Ron was sitting with Harry, eating a sandwich. He was red faced - more than usual - and speaking urgently to Harry in a hushed tone.

"What's going on, guys?" Hermione asked in a casual tone as she strolled over to the table they were sitting at.

Ron and Harry promptly sat up to say hello to Hermione. "Don't you look nice today," Harry remarked.

Hermione shrugged. "I'm just going out to see Draco," she responded. At their gaping expressions, she explained further. "It's _not _a date, don't worry. Ginny made me wear it."

"Since when do you call him Draco?" Harry questioned with a smirk. Hermione shot him a glare, and he backed off, returning to his conversation with Ron.

"So..." Hermione started, though they didn't even glance up at her this time. "What are you talking about?"

It was Harry that answered her. "He's having a hard time with Pansy," he said.

Ron looked up at her with a worried expression. "All I wanted to talk about was wedding plans, but then she... she threatened to hex me!" he exclaimed.

He looked like he was about to continue, but right then, Angelina appeared in the kitchen. "Do you know where Mrs. Weasley is? She wanted to discuss wedding plans."

Due to the law, Angelina and George's wedding and Ginny and Harry's wedding were being forced to occur sooner than planned, so they were rapidly planning out details and such.

Ron glanced at Angelina, and pointed at the stairs. Angelina thanked him and promptly ran up the steps.

Returning to his friends, he resumed his worried stance. "What am I going to do?!"

Instead of answering, Hermione reached over, and wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace, rubbing his back soothingly in an attempt to calm him down. Over her shoulder, Harry began to give Ron some advice.

"You need to just sit down and have a talk with her. Remind her that you're in the same position, that you're both victims of this law."

Ron began to pull back, so Hermione returned her arms to her sides. "That... that could work," Ron said thoughtfully, staring into space.

They continued on like this, leaving Hermione bored out of her mind. After five minutes or so, she decided to go and find Mrs. Weasley and get in on the wedding planning; there was more for her to do in that situation than there was with Ron's dilemma.

Trudging up the steps, she found Ginny, Angelina, and Mrs. Weasley in Ginny's room - now clean - writing notes and such on a scrap piece of parchment.

Mrs. Weasley looked up to see Hermione in the doorway, before beckoning for her to come over.

"Oh good, you're here," Ginny exclaimed. "This is way more stressful than I had anticipated."

Hermione raised her eyebrows in understanding. "I bet," she replied.

"Oh!" she blurted. "I still need to find my wedding dress! Hermione, do you think you could help me do that after your thing with Malfoy?"

"I'd love to, Gin. That's no problem," Hermione replied. "Let's meet here at five."

The four women continued discussing wedding plans for another forty five minutes, before Hermione had to excuse herself.

She grabbed her purse and apparated to the Three Broomsticks, waiting for Draco. After five or so minutes, he appeared in yet another green suit, and they ventured on inside.

While Draco ordered them two butterbeers, Hermione scoured for an empty table. For a Thursday afternoon, the pub was rather crowded.

Finding a vacant seat in the corner, she sat down, placing her purse on the chair next to her. After another minute, Draco joined her, taking the seat across from her and handing her one of the butterbeers. Hermione smiled in thanks, sipping the warm drink.

"So..." Draco started, and Hermione set her cup down on the table, giving him her full attention. "I just... I just want to apologize for Tuesday..." he said, trailing off.

"Draco, it's fine," she assured him, reaching across the table to give his shoulder a comforting caress. A second later, she remembered that this was _Draco Malfoy, _and she awkwardly returned her hand to her lap.

"No Hermione, it's not..." he began, before raising one eyebrow. "Did you just call me Draco?"

Hermione gave him a challenging look. "Did you just call me Hermione?" she accused with a smirk.

Draco awkwardly ran his fingers through his hair. "Wow," he started. "Things... things are really changing."

"Yeah," Hermione laughed in agreement. "They really are."

"Scary, don't you think?" he asked nervously.

"Scary," Hermione said, nodding and sipping her drink.

_Silence_

Running low on topics to converse about, the two of them just sat in awkward quiet. Hermione continued to sip her drink as Draco began drumming on the table with his fingertips.

"So, what do you even do for a living?" Hermione asked, breaking the silence. "I mean, every time I've seen you since we've been paired, you've always been dressed so nice. I figured it had something to do with your work."

Draco grinned, as if he had been anticipating this moment. "Actually, I'm the founder of the Muggleborn Assimilation Foundation."

Hermione's jaw dropped in disbelief. "Funny," she said with a knowing grin. "But seriously, where do you work?" The Muggleborn Assimilation Foundation (or M.A.F.) was a new, yet wildly popular, organization for muggleborns and their parents to become acquainted with the wizarding world before they started their first term at whichever school they would be attending. It was certainly nothing that _Draco Malfoy _of all people could have started.

Draco laughed. "I'm serious, Hermione!" At her dumbfounded expression, he gave a further explanation. "If you really want to know, it's because... Well, you see, my dad and I, we don't exactly see eye to eye. So-"

"So, you did this to get back at him," Hermione finished.

"Partly," he responded. "I... I wanted to change. I wanted to do something right for once."

Hermione laughed, a quizzical expression plastered on her face. "Who are you, and what have you done with Draco Malfoy?"

"Do you want to take a walk?" Draco asked suddenly. "It feels a bit too... stuffy in here."

"A walk would be lovely," Hermione agreed, and they grabbed their bags, heading to the door.

As they strolled through the small town, Draco carried on with their conversation. "So, what does 'Miss Bookworm of the Century' do in terms of work? Are you in the Ministry?"

Hermione shuffled her feet, staring awkwardly at the ground. "I..." she started hoarsely, clearing her throat. "I don't actually have a job, at the moment."

She looked up, and found that Draco was staring at her in utter shock.

"You?!" he exclaimed, astounded. "Hermione Granger, brightest witch of her age, helped defeat _Voldemort, _has no job?!"

Hermione blushed, and dropped her gaze once more in embarrassment.

"So, what do you want to do?" Draco continued casually.

"I - ," she started. "I'm not sure. I kind of wanted to work in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, but I'm not sure..."

"You'd be great at that!" Draco exclaimed enthusiastically, causing Hermione to blush. "I... I mean..." he stuttered.

By that time, they had reached a bench at the edge of the woods, so they sat down to observe the small town with countless witches and wizards bustling about the streets.

Up above, a few young wizards had set off Zonko's fireworks, which allowed the user to configure them into displaying any kind of message or picture. Hermione pointed up at the ones currently showing the lead singer of the Weird Sisters, laughing, when Draco looked at her nervously.

"Hermione... what's on your arm?" he asked carefully.

Oh. Her scar. She had forgotten all about the word that Bellatrix Lestrange had engraved on her forearm. No one in the Weasley family ever brought it up, but it wasn't like she was _ashamed _of the term that was carved into her skin. It was, in fact, just a word. To her, at least.

Still, she definitely did not want Draco to see it.

"Nothing," she said, dropping her arm "subtly".

Draco let out an exasperated sigh. "It's not nothing, Hermione. What's on your arm?" he repeated with more force, reaching for the arm that she had tucked behind her back in an attempt to keep it hidden.

"Nothing, it's nothing, it's no big deal," she started, trying to maneuver her arm away from his grasp.

Unfortunately, it was to no avail. Draco managed to grab hold of her arm in a way that ensured she wouldn't be able to pull back.

By that point, however, she had given up; he was going to find out about it at some point, so why not now? Still, that didn't stop the heat rushing to her face in humiliation.

Draco stared at her arm in horror, blinking to make sure he read the word correctly.

"Who," he started, choking on his words. "Who did this?" The look of dread on his face had been replaced by cold, solid anger.

"Do you," she began nervously. "Do you remember when Harry, Ron, and I were taken to the Malfoy Manor, and Bellatrix Lestrange wanted to have a little... talk with me?"

Draco met her gaze solemnly, surprise and remorse plastered across his defined features. "Hermione," he croaked. "Hermione, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for everything I ever said to you. I'm so sorry." He barely whispered the last three words. This was not the cold, insolent, arrogant Draco that Hermione remembered. This Draco was... weak, and vulnerable. In a way, that made him more dangerous.

Hermione turned to face him, tilting his head up so that he was looking at her. "Draco, it's fine. Honestly. I don't let it bother me."

Draco's anguished expression was replaced by revulsion. "Why do you keep it there?" he spat, looking away. "Why don't you get it removed or something? How can you wake up and look at it every day? How does it not affect you?"

"Because," Hermione said. "It doesn't bother me any. We all have our battle scars, right?"

Draco looked her in the eyes once more, this time with pure hatred. Though it wasn't directed at her, it still frightened her. "I think we can agree that this is a bit different from a battle scar," he growled.

"So what do you want me to do about it?" Hermione asked sternly.

"Get rid of it," he responded sourly.

"You know, Draco, last time I checked, that wasn't your decision to make," she spat, glaring at him.

He glared back, any lingering traces of sorrow or regret extinguished. "Fine," he hissed.

"Fine," she seethed, crossing her arms and turning away from him.

They sat there, without speaking to each other, and the silence was deafening. Sparks of tension were flying in all directions, though neither one of them made a sound.

Finally, after a long five minutes, Draco decided to speak up. "You know," he said, breaking the silence. "I could help you get a job."

"What?" a confused Hermione asked, turning to face Draco once more.

"I could," he replied simply. "I have some connections in the Ministry, and-"

"What makes you think I would want your help?" she cut him off, a scathing look plastered on her face.

"It was just a suggestion," he said, and they returned to awkward silence.

After a minute, Hermione looked at the time. "Oh god, I have to go! I promised Ginny I'd meet her to look for wedding dresses; you are coming to the wedding, right?"

Draco looked at her in surprise. "Do you still want me to?"

Hermione shrugged, slightly embarrassed. "I suppose. It's up to you, though."

Draco ran his fingers through his hair. "Oh, um... sure," he replied.

"Great. Bye," Hermione replied before disapparating.

* * *

**Sorry for the long wait; I have been working on it the whole time, but for whatever reason, I was having serious trouble writing this chapter. Hopefully this makes up for it, though!**

**To Guest: I read that story after I had already started this one, so I don't believe that it's copying in that sense. Thank you for reviewing, though!**

**Last thing. I would like you all to know that any flame reviews will be deleted. By flames, I do not mean constructive criticism; I mean reviews telling me that I, as a person or a writer, am horrible. Or, that my story is terrible and should never have been written. These reviews are upsetting, and I would appreciate it, if you do not like my story, to just move along. Give me ideas on how to improve writing or the plot, but please don't just blatantly tell me you hate it. It's rude and hurtful. **

**Now that I have that out of the way, thank you all for reading!**


	9. Chapter 9

Hermione arrived in Ginny's old room with a **pop **to see Ginny patiently waiting on her bed, with Angelina to her right.

"Sorry I'm late," Hermione panted.

Ginny put on an expression of fake bewilderment. "I can't believe you! You're a whole _minute _late! What's gotten into you lately, Hermione?" her friend joked. Hermione grabbed a pillow, and lightly whacked it onto Ginny's arm, making her fiery-haired friend giggle, Angelina joining in.

"So, are we ready to go?" Hermione inquired, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

Ginny nodded. "I think so. I have all the boutiques I want to visit on a list," she replied, holding up a piece of parchment.

"And, if you don't mind, I'm going to be tagging along," Angelina piped. "My wedding is just a week after Ginny's, and I have a lot to get done, so getting a wedding dress out of the way will help a bit. Hopefully," she added.

Hermione shrugged. "That's fine with me. So where are we going first?" she asked Ginny.

Ginny squinted at her list. "Um... Well, it's called 'Metal Flaque', and it's in Paris."

"Shall we, then?" Hermione asked, holding out her arm.

"We shall," Ginny replied before taking her arm, along with Angelina's, and disapparating them.

* * *

The three girls arrived in an empty alley a few blocks from the shop, and began to walk over. The streets were filled with tourists, making it hard to get around. The crisp wind stung Hermione's face, and blew her hair in twenty different directions at once, obscuring her vision. Her hair also made the decision to fly into her mouth, causing her to splutter, and Ginny and Angelina to laugh, until, however, their own hair did the same.

As they rounded a corner, a fresh gust of wind slapping their faces, Hermione decided to make a bit of small talk.

"So," she began. "How has Neville been? I never asked who he got paired with."

"Oh," Ginny giggled. "Remember Cho Chang?"

"No!" Hermione gasped. "No, that can't be! I thought he was dating Hannah Abbott. He didn't propose or anything?"

Ginny shook her head. "They were taking another 'break' and he missed his chance. Hannah got paired with Theodore Nott."

"These pairings are insane," Angelina said, giving her head a slight shake. Ginny and Hermione murmured in agreement.

"Cho Chang, though," Hermione continued. "I just... I can't even imagine that. What about Lavender Brown?"

"McLaggen," Ginny replied.

Angelina and Hermione both stared at her in disbelief. "Seriously?" Angelina asked. "I remember him; he was a year below me. He was a total prick."

Hermione snorted at that, causing Ginny to giggle once more. "Pavarti?" she questioned.

"Adrian Pucey," Angelina answered, shuddering. "His teeth give me nightmares."

If Hermione recalled correctly, Pucey had a rather... toothy grin. The only other fact she could remember about him was that he was one of the only players on the Slytherin Quidditch team to not cheat.

"So, how's Luna?" Hermione asked Ginny as they made it the last few meters to the shop. Luna had gone back to Hogwarts the following school year after the battle. Ginny had stayed at home, opting to instead just take the exams with the other students as opposed to actually taking the entire year. Hermione had also been given the option to return, but, tempted as she was, she decided to go the same route as Ginny. Though, looking back on it now, she almost wished she'd gone; all students of age that were still in school were exempt from the law until graduation.

"She's okay," Ginny replied, opening the door to the boutique. "We don't talk as much now that N.E.W.T.S are coming up, but she's fully convinced that we have an infestation of Plumarian Chumas in our attic."

"What are Plumarian Chumas?" Angelina asked.

Ginny shrugged.

As Hermione stepped into the store, she took a moment to take it all in. It was a moderate size, filled with racks and racks of dresses. It smelled... it smelled like old and new combined, with a certain musky scent to it. The entire place was beautiful.

Countless women were bustling around, carrying their entire weight and then some in dresses. There were a few men standing awkwardly in corners, looking like they didn't belong, no doubt the fathers or friends of the brides.

If she was being honest, this was Hermione's first time in a wedding store, and she was eager to get started. Her companions looked as if they were having the same feelings.

Excited, the three women bustled off to the first rack. Ginny was the first of them to reach in and pull out a dress.

"What about this one?" she asked enthusiastically.

In Ginny's hand was by far the ugliest dress Hermione had ever seen. It was a sickeningly almost-yellow color, with shoulder-less sleeves. It poofed beyond belief, and had a random streak of lace running diagonally across the middle. To top things off, there was a great big bow slapped on the top left.

Fighting a gag reflex, Hermione raised an eyebrow at her friend. "You're joking, right?"

Ginny smacked her arm with a playful scowl. "Of course I'm joking, you idiot!"

Angelina let out a sigh of relief. "Thank Merlin. That is one hideous dress."

Laughing, the three of them continued their hunt.

* * *

Ginny waddled out of the dressing room in what she had deemed the "perfect dress" on the rack; it wasn't so perfect anymore. The form-fitting gown was a bit too form-fitting for Ginny's pregnant body. She wasn't even close to showing, but she wasn't quite as slender anymore, and the dress hugged in all the wrong places.

Ginny huffed. "I look like a tramp," she complained.

"Why don't you just fix it with magic?" Hermione inquired.

"Because!" Ginny whined. "I don't want to have to fix the dress with magic. I just want... the perfect dress." Hermione rolled her eyes at that.

"On the bright side, your boobs look great," Angelina pointed out.

Ginny grinned. "I know, right?" she exclaimed. "Pregnancy boobs are amazing!"

Hermione laughed as Ginny went back into the dressing room, before turning back to the rack she was on.

A few minutes later, Ginny walked out with a new dress on, beaming.

"This is the dress."

* * *

While Hermione didn't find her special dress that day, Angelina did.

They were walking down the streets of London, heading to a small muggle restaurant for dinner, when they passed another wedding dress shop. There it was, Angelina's dress, beckoning towards her through the window.

Angelina instantly fell in love with the champagne-colored dress, and rushed in to try it on. It was a near-perfect fit, nothing a bit of magical tweaking couldn't fix. She happily payed the cashier with her remaining muggle money, and they set off again.

* * *

"So, Hermione," Ginny started as they sat on her bed after they had left the restaurant. Harry was still out for auror training, and wouldn't be back until the next morning. "How was your not-a-date with Malfoy?"

Hermione shrugged. "It was... interesting. We chatted a bit, bickered a bit, drank butterbeer, etc."

Ginny scrunched up her eyebrows. "Sounds... boring," she said.

"So, Angelina," Hermione said, changing the subject. "How's George been? Is he doing alright?"

"He's..." she began. "He's been okay. He's still depressed, but... it's getting easier for him. I'm hoping that once we have our first child, it'll take his mind off of Fred's death. He has every right to be sad, believe me, but him moping around every day isn't helping anyone."

Ginny and Hermione nodded solemnly. "I wish there was something we could do," Ginny lamented. "Fred and George were always my favorites, and I hate seeing George so down."

Angelina sighed in defeat. "Ignoring the cheesiness, only time will tell."

"Onto happier subjects..." Ginny said. "I need to get you two bridesmaid dresses!"

Hermione groaned. "Okay, but don't make them super horrible! You saw those dresses Fleur made us wear at her wedding; I don't want to relive that experience."

Ginny cocked an eyebrow at her bushy-haired friend. "Do you doubt my dress-picking skills?"

Hermione laughed. "You know I don't; I was just saying."

"Oh!" Angelina blurted suddenly. "I've been meaning to ask you guys; would you be my bridesmaids?"

Hermione grinned, while Ginny squealed. "Of course we would!" her red-haired friend exclaimed, tackling Angelina.

The three of them laughed and played and talked until close to one in the morning, when Angelina had to excuse herself, wanting some sleep before work the next morning at the Broom Shop in Diagon Alley. She tested all the brooms before they were displayed in the shop, and took customers out for test flies on the broom of their choosing.

After saying good bye, Hermione and Ginny stayed up for another half an hour before calling it a night.

* * *

Hermione walked down the suspiciously empty corridor that she knew all too well, avoiding the occasional falling brick or dust cloud being sent down from above, where the fighting was still going on. She shuddered when she heard the thump of another lifeless body hitting the ground.

A penetratingly shrill scream pierced Hermione's ears, which made her steps falter, but she continued on nevertheless. She had to find Ron and Harry.

It was Lord Voldemort's voice that brought her to a halt.

"You have fought valiantly," he hissed. "Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet you have sustained heavy losses..."

Hermione broke into a run, not really knowing where she was headed, but she wound up standing in front of the doors to the Great Hall. She took a deep breath, not knowing what to expect when she entered, and pushed over the heavy doors.

What she saw made her scream; lying on the hard cement ground, in a big and bloody pile, was everyone she loved: Harry, Ron, Ginny, Luna, Neville, Tonks, and countless others.

"Hermione," someone whispered into her ear, but when she turned around, no one was there. "_Hermione,_" the voice repeated with more force. Suddenly she was shaking, and then she was brought back to reality.

Hermione opened her eyes, panting, a sheer line of sweat coating her forehead. Ginny hovered above her, clutching a candle, and worriedly dabbing at her face with a damp washcloth. When she noticed that her friend was awake, she let out a sigh of relief.

Hermione sat up with a groan. "What happened?" she asked, rubbing her temples.

Ginny glanced at her solemnly before setting her candle and washcloth down, and taking a seat next to her friend. "You were screaming," she whispered, shaking.

Hermione pulled Ginny into a tight embrace, resting her chin on the top of her head. "I was dreaming about the war," she replied, nuzzling into her flaming red hair.

"Of course you were," Ginny spat as she jerked away, seething. "That's all anyone dreams about, the bloody war."

They fell silent for a moment, before Hermione spoke up. "It's worse when I'm alone." Ginny's expression softened, and she offered Hermione a weak smile.

"Then... then maybe, this marriage law thing will be good for you," Ginny said hopefully, though her voice deceived her. "I know... I know Malfoy isn't ideal, but... but maybe-"

"I know," Hermione answered, cutting her off.

"You know," Ginny said, a slight panicked tone in her voice. "Harry's worse. He... he always sleeps with his wand under his pillow, and... and he talks in his sleep a lot, and he just always looks so... empty, and... and-"

Ginny was on the verge of collapsing, and barely choked out the last few words, and when Hermione pulled her back into the hug, she just lost it, and began to sob into her friend's shoulder.

"I just..." she cried. "I just don't know what to do! I don't know how to help him!"

"I know, I know," Hermione cooed, soothingly stroking her back in large circles as she began to choke on her sobs.

After a few minutes, Ginny's cries turned into silent whimpers as she shook in Hermione's arms. Soon, her friend was asleep, so Hermione took the washcloth, and carefully wiped away the tears stained on her cheeks, before gently setting her down, tucking a blanket over her.

Sighing, she grabbed a blanket and a pillow, and laid down on the floor beside the bed, falling asleep once more.

* * *

Hermione woke, yawning as she stretched her aching back, when she realized that she was on the ground. Groaning, she sat up to see Ginny waking as well.

When Ginny saw Hermione, she smiled, wiping away any last vestiges from the previous night. As if by some unspoken agreement, they had resolved to not bring up the night before.

Ginny sat up in her bed, ruffling her bed-head and yawning. "What are you doing on the ground there, Hermione?" she questioned groggily.

"Absolutely nothing," Hermione responded, leaping to her feet and then instantly regretting it as her legs began to wobble and she plopped down right next to Ginny.

"Right..." Ginny said sarcastically, shoving herself off the bed to brush her teeth and fix her hair, though it probably looked remarkably better than Hermione's did at that point.

"Do you want to stay for breakfast?" Ginny asked as she hacked away at her ginger locks. "Harry should be home any minute." As if on cue, the door opened. "That'll be him," she said, laughing.

"What did your mother think about the whole 'living with Harry' situation?" Hermione asked jokingly.

Ginny chuckled nervously. "She had a fit. But we _are _getting married in less than two weeks, and Sirius was already connected to the floo before we moved in, so she can reach us whenever she needs to. She finally conceded, as you can see."

Hermione nodded, grinning. "Oh, and I'd love to stay for breakfast," she added.

Smiling, the two of them made their way downstairs to Harry.

"Hello, love," Ginny said to Harry as he set his stuff on the table, and he engulfed her in a large hug, picking her up and kissing her. "How was work? Oh, and I hope you don't mind, but Hermione is going to be staying for breakfast."

Harry glanced up at Hermione and smiled before resuming talking to Ginny, while Hermione stood there awkwardly, third-wheeling all over the room.

After a few more minutes of being ignored by the two love birds, she decided that _she _would be making them breakfast. As she strolled into the kitchen, she glanced at her two friends to find that they were snogging, completely oblivious to the fact that their house guest still existed.

Sighing, she grabbed a frying pan, and began to make eggs, using her wand to speed up the process. After slicing up some fruit, she grabbed three plates and three forks and arranged the food on the dishes, before walking out of the kitchen and placing the breakfast on their table.

Since Harry and Ginny were still sucking their faces off, Hermione cleared her throat to get their attention. They quickly broke apart, blushing. "Sorry, Hermione," they said in unison like little kids who got in trouble.

Hermione laughed, and they sat down at the dining table to eat.

They idly chatted about work and the marriage law for around forty five minutes, before Hermione excused herself.

Waving goodbye, she disapparated into her flat to find a letter stuck in the mail slot in her door. She hadn't been expecting anything from Malfoy, so she confusedly pulled out the envelope, and began to inspect it carefully. There was a Ministry of Magic seal on the front, which made it all the more bewildering.

_Dear Ms. Granger,_

_We are pleased to inform you that we wish to offer you a job interview as the assistant head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. If you are interested, please send a reply as soon as conveniently possible, and we shall set up a time and a date._

_Best of wishes,_

_Dahlia Raymond, head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures_

Hermione internally screamed - no, scratch that. Hermione physically screamed. This was the best news she could have imagined. Why did they pick her? Why did her dream job pick her without her even applying? She hadn't even known there was a position open!

She quickly grabbed a piece of spare parchment, and wrote a reply, trying to sound as professional as possible. After rereading it, she quickly used her wand to erase it and tried again. She repeated this process until the fifth try, when she deemed it sufficient enough. Excitedly apparating to Diagon Alley, she located the owlery, and proceeded to send her letter.

Still squealing by the time she made it home, she began to mentally prepare for the interview, until a certain thought surfaced:

Draco

* * *

**Sorry this was pretty much a filler chapter, but it needed to be there.**

**Up next: Ginny's wedding!**

**R&amp;R please!**


	10. Chapter 10

_That arrogant prat! The nerve! He is such an arse - _

_On the other hand, it was really kind of him to go out of his way to help me get a job - _

_NO! He must think so little of me! He must think I'm incapable of getting a job on my own. I'll show him! The little prick - _

_But what if this is the start of something amazing? Maybe I should be grateful - _

_NO!_

Hermione mentally battled with herself, unsure of whether to thank him or to strangle him. She could always do both; just grab hold of his neck, and scream her gratitude in his face. Whatever works.

One thing she knew for sure, however, was that she was going to push her pride, which was currently having a seizure, aside, and take the interview.

In the midst of her thoughts, she failed to notice the new letter slipping through her mail slot until it had slid over to her feet.

Hermione curiously picked up the envelope, noting the lack of the Ministry seal. Pulling out the piece of parchment, however, she recognized Ginny's handwriting. Opening it up, she began to read.

_Hermione,_

_Come quick! I've found your bridesmaid dress! I need you to try it on to make sure it looks okay._

_Ginny_

Momentarily forgetting all about Malfoy and the job, she disapparated to Ginny and Harry's house with a loud **pop**.

When she arrived, she instantly recognized a certain Ravenclaw's wavy blonde locks.

"Luna!" she exclaimed, running up to hug her friend. "Oh, it's so great to see you! How is everything?"

Luna smiled dreamily at her. "Hello, Hermione. Hogwarts is fine, but everyone in Ravenclaw has been infested with Wrackspurts! I keep trying to tell them to think positive thoughts, but no one will listen to me! I attempted to inform Headmaster McGonagall, but I'm not quite sure if she received the message."

Hermione nodded in fake understanding. "Oh, that's horrible. Wrackspurts, is it? My father's house once got infested with them," she said, trying to humor her imaginative friend.

Luna scrunched up her eyebrows in confusion. "That's rather odd, don't you think? Wrackspurts can't survive in a non-living environment; they live inside people's ears and make their brains go fuzzy. You should ask your father about that; it would make for an interesting article in the _Quibbler,_ I think."

Hermione awkwardly agreed, before shuffling off to see Ginny, who was making a joke to Harry as he laughed.

"Hello, hello, hello!" Hermione greeted cheerfully. "I see you found dresses!" she said, gesturing to the gowns still zipped up in the dress cover.

"I did!" Ginny squealed, hugging her tightly.

"Ooh, I can't wait! But where's Angelina?" she questioned.

Ginny put her hand on her shoulder, looking at her like she was five. "Hermione, love, some people, like Angelina, have this thing called a job. She gets off around two, so she'll be here then."

Hermione shoved Ginny's arm away, scowling playfully. "I _know _that! Oh, that reminds me! Guess what?"

"What?" Ginny asked.

"I just got offered an interview as the assistant head with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures!" she exclaimed.

"Oh, Hermione, that's great!" Ginny screeched, hugging her friend excitedly.

"Hermione, that's wonderful," Harry added, giving her a hug of his own.

Luna just nodded in agreement before going back to inspecting the pictures that were hanging on the cream-colored walls.

Hermione left out the fact that she was pretty sure that Malfoy had set the entire thing up after she had specifically told him not to because she really just wanted to see the bridesmaid dresses. Now, Hermione was _certainly _not the most girly person, far from it, in fact, but sometimes it was just fun to dress up, and feel pretty, and such.

"Ok, enough about that," she pressed. "I want to try on some dresses!"

That snapped Ginny back into reality. "Oh. Right. Luna, come here," she said, motioning towards their dreamy blonde friend.

As the three of them gathered around the gowns, and Harry excused himself to... well, not be around three girls as they tried on clothes, Ginny handed them both a covered dress to try on. Hermione ran off to the nearest empty room, while Luna just swayed dreamily, her mind miles away from her physical self.

Hermione quickly shut the door to the guest bedroom, not bothering to lock the door, as it would have been pointless. She tossed the dress on the bed, and began to fumble with the zipper. About halfway down, of course, it got stuck. Biting back a few curses, Hermione tried to yank the zipper back up, seeing as it wouldn't be going down any further. Once she was successful in doing that, she slowly tried to ease the piece-of-crap zipper down. Unfortunately for her, it proceeded to catch in the same place as before. Huffing over the fact that she was defeated by a zipper, she reached through the gap that was already present, and pulled the dress out.

She quickly stripped off her pajamas that she still hadn't had time to change out of, and slipped into the bridesmaid dress. After zipping it up, this time with little struggle, Hermione looked in the mirror and let out a small gasp. The dress was absolutely stunning.

Falling just above the knee, the red dress gripped snugly at the waist, embroidered with a beaded motif. The inch-wide straps rested near the edge of her shoulders, and formed a v-neck that was very flattering. Hermione was in love with the gown.

Giving an excited twirl, she watched in awe as the dress flared out, but not too much. It was perfect for dancing in.

Hermione quickly ran out of the room, to see Luna in the exact same dress, only hers was blue. The two of them smiled at each other, before walking out to Ginny, who was "patiently" waiting for them in the living room.

When Ginny caught sight of her two friends, she loudly squealed and engulfed them in a rather large hug.

"You guys look amazing!" she exclaimed, breaking the hug and looking them over.

"You have a great eye for dresses, Gin," Hermione said, admiring the gowns.

"These dresses are quite lovely," Luna agreed distantly.

"I can't wait until Angelina gets here!" Ginny continued with an enthusiastic bounce. "This is all going to be so perfect!"

* * *

Hermione woke up the next morning feeling great. She had finally broken down and taken the Dreamless Sleep potion, and it had worked like a charm. As she stretched her back, an owl landed on her windowsill and began to tap on the glass.

They were always conveniently there whenever she woke up, and Hermione found that thought quite amusing.

Heaving herself off of her warm bed with a grunt, she walked over to the window that the owl was sitting impatiently outside of, and propped it open. In a flash, the owl dropped the letter and flew out of sight.

"Ok then," Hermione muttered to herself as she opened the Ministry-sealed envelope.

_Ms. Granger,_

_We are delighted that you have taken the time to interview with us. Would next Thursday at four o'clock work for you? Please write back and let us know if this time would be inconvenient for you._

_Best of wishes,_

_Dahlia Raymond, head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures_

Hermione excitedly squealed, and as she jumped around the room, her wild hair went flying in all different directions.

Five days; she had five days to prepare for this interview. Surely that was enough time, wasn't it?

At the moment, however, Hermione couldn't have cared less; she was eager for this opportunity, and that was all that mattered.

She had contemplated whether or not to write Draco, thanking him, but decided against it; she could express gratitude at the wedding, assuming she got the job.

She honestly couldn't wait!

* * *

Five days of wedding plans and calming a nervous bride later, Hermione was sitting in her undergarments, struggling with what to wear. She had one hour until the interview, and she had already discarded everything she had tried on. It wasn't as if she had many clothes to choose from, but first impressions were key, and she wanted to do well in that aspect.

Finally, she decided on her favorite black muggle skirt that was so tight that she could barely walk, but made her look like a professional. She matched it with the floral blouse that she had borrowed (and not given back to) from Ginny. As for shoes, she slipped on a pair of plain black flats that complimented the outfit nicely, but weren't impossible to walk in.

And then there was her hair.

She had wanted to do a tight bun of sorts that would make her look like she meant business, but her hair had decided to be difficult that day, so Hermione eventually just settled for a ponytail, leaving a few strands down to frame her face.

Makeup? Hermione didn't _need _makeup, but she supposed a little wouldn't hurt. She wanted to look nice, but not like she was trying too hard. Mascara and foundation, she decided, was all that she was going to use.

Finally satisfied, she looked back at her clock.

_3:10_

Wait, she had done all of that in ten minutes? That left her with fifty minutes left, thirty-five if she wanted to get there early (which she did). Thirty-five minutes to stress and change her mind and lose her sanity. She supposed she could get something to eat. Or she could read. Or she could sit around in her flat in absolute dread. That last one sounded good to her, so she sat on her couch, and began to make dying-whale noises as she looked through her resume and her notes, and found every little flaw or detail that she wished she could change.

Twirling her small, curly strands of hair that hung loosely on her cheeks, she began to pace as fast as she could in her abnormally tight skirt.

She wasn't ready.

She was _not _ready.

This one interview could shape the rest of her entire life; she wasn't ready for that kind of pressure! Granted, Hermione always did well under pressure, but it was the moments leading up to that one big, pressure-filled event that really made her lose it.

And Hermione was losing it.

_3:20_

She swore that clock was just taunting her, and the slow ticking began to drive her into insanity. She needed to get out. She needed to leave her stuffy flat and take a walk, or just get some air, but she needed to do _something_.

Hermione grabbed her professional-looking briefcase, lifted her wand, and apparated to a street that was roughly a twenty minute walk from the ministry. Anxiously sighing, she began the journey to either her impending doom, or a new land of opportunity.

Ten minutes into the walk, she was almost tempted to turn back the way she had come, and run, but she finally just mentally slapped herself, muttering "I'm an idiot," under her breath.

She was being ridiculous; what was the worst that could happen? Wait - no, don't think that. If that thought popped up in her mind, something was bound to go wrong. They'd tell her that they had sent the letters to her by mistake, and that they had meant to interview a different Ms. Granger, or she would end up tripping down the stairs, and crush her skull in, or - No, positive thoughts, Hermione. Positive thoughts.

Everything was going to go smoothly. She had prepared for every single question they could throw at her, and had even practiced the interview with Ginny's help. She looked professional, and she knew how to hide her nervousness well. She would be fine.

She stopped walking, and looked up. There it was, the Ministry, towering over her head in a way that felt mocking, almost threatening, and her panic returned.

She cautiously walked up to the visitor's entrance, each step sending a shiver up her spine. She could hear her own breath louder than any of the busy ministry workers, and it took all that she had to calm herself down.

"You can do this, Hermione," she whispered under her breath, before opening the large and heavy door, and stepping inside.

It took her roughly five minutes to navigate the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and another three minutes to find Dahlia Raymond's office. As she was about ten minutes early, Hermione stiffly took a seat in one of the hard, wooden benches sitting outside of the room.

Ten minutes later, as she was quickly running over the questions once more to distract herself from the fact that Dahlia would be coming out any minute, the door opened, and out walked a woman that Hermione presumed to be Mrs. Raymond.

The woman, in her mid-twenties, was at least 5"8, with long, straight brown hair that ended right above her waist. She was thin, wearing an outfit similar to Hermione, and she had a friendly face that made her look approachable. She was very pretty in Hermione's opinion.

"Ms. Granger!" she called in a friendly tone, and Hermione's anxiety quickly vanished. "I am so glad you could make it! Come in, come in," she said, gesturing to her office with her arm.

As Hermione walked in, she took a moment to look around the office. It was small, but not _too _small. There was a medium-sized desk on one side which took up most of the room, and had a chair on either side of it. On top of the desk were scattered papers, and a picture of Dahlia and a man who was most likely her husband, and they were both smiling and laughing at a little boy about two years old. The rest of the room was filled with papers, file cabinets, and books. Assuming Hermione got the job, this was probably what her office would look like.

"Oh, have a seat," Mrs. Raymond said, pointing at one of the chairs. "Pumpkin juice?" she asked as Hermione sat down. She was a bit surprised at how comfortable the seats were.

"Yes, please," Hermione responded, and the woman opened up a miniature fridge stored underneath her desk, grabbed a container of juice, and poured them both a glass, which Hermione accepted graciously.

"So," Dahlia started as she took a seat, and sipped from her drink. "I am very excited to meet you! Of course, I've heard all about your adventures in the papers when you were on the run with Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, and then when Mr. Malfoy told me all about you - although, he failed to mention how beautiful you are! Anyways, it's an honor."

Hermione was at a loss for words. She had assumed that Draco had just called one of his connections and asked for an interview, but he had actually talked her up to, quite possibly, her future boss? How was she ever going to repay him for that? "Malfoy - um - what?"

"Mr. Malfoy, your fiance? As soon as there was an open position, he was in my office, talking about his fiancee, Hermione Granger, and how she would be absolutely perfect for the job. Let me tell you," she continued with a more serious tone of voice. "I don't know if you two are together because of love, or because of the new law, but it's hard to find someone who will go the distance for you. Mr. Malfoy is a keeper, and don't you forget it. And he's quite handsome, too," she added with a wink.

Hermione couldn't help but blush. Malfoy had done all of this... for her? She was so lost in thought that she didn't hear Mrs. Raymond ask her a question. When Hermione glanced up to see her staring expectantly at her, however, she snapped back into reality. "What?" she asked. "I mean, could you repeat the question?"

Dahlia laughed in a way that Hermione found just a bit _too _perky. "I asked you why you would like to work here," she answered with a smile.

As Mrs. Raymond asked her all of the normal interview questions that she had expected, and Hermione responded with perfectly-scripted answers, she began to feel more and more comfortable in the genuinely kind woman's presence.

"So, do you know exactly what this job entails, Ms. Granger?" she asked half an hour later.

"Not exactly," Hermione replied, finishing off the contents of her cup. "I think I know the basic idea, but I'm not one hundred percent sure."

Dahlia rested her elbows on the desk, clasping her hands together. "Ok, so what you would be doing as my assistant is very similar to what I do. You will be giving out orders, going through paperwork, researching certain creatures, and taking my place if I am absent. You will be in charge of pretty much running the department alongside me. Does that sound good?"

Hermione nodded enthusiastically. "That sounds wonderful, Mrs. Raymond."

Dahlia smiled, returning her hands to her lap before standing up. "Well, I think that's all for today," she said, extending a hand to Hermione, which she shook. "It's been a pleasure, Ms. Granger, and I will be in contact within the week."

Hermione smiled gratefully. "Take care," she said as she began to head out of the office.

"You too," Mrs. Raymond replied. "And have fun with that fiance of yours!"

Hermione blushed before giving her a swift nod, leaving the room. As soon as the door shut behind her, she let out a sigh of relief. That had gone way better than she had expected, and she felt pretty confident in herself as she walked towards the exit, head held high.

* * *

The Monday after her interview with Dahlia Raymond, two days before Ginny's wedding, Hermione found herself dressed in her bridesmaid dress and admiring it in the mirror. She was mid-twirl when a rapping on glass outside caused her to falter in her steps. Right outside her window was a large white owl with a letter clasped in its beak.

Hermione's heart skipped a beat, and she was pretty sure her stomach had swallowed itself whole. If this was the letter she thought it was... Sure enough, as she walked closer, she could just make out the Ministry of Magic seal. Her steps began to slow, though part of her wanted to just run up to the owl and rip open the envelope.

Finally, she reached the wall, and pushed the heavy, old window up with a grunt, allowing the owl access to her living room. Following suit of its predecessor, the owl dropped the letter and flew off in the blink of an eye.

As she picked up the envelope, her mind grappled over the decision of whether to open it in lightning speed, or to slowly tear it open, building up the anticipation.

She finally decided to just open it as if it were a normal letter, and she pulled out the parchment, carefully unfolding it as if it were the most important and delicate item in the world. Though, in Hermione's case, perhaps it was. Taking a deep breath, she began to scan the contents.

_Ms. Granger,_

_We are pleased to offer you the position as assistant head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and we hope you will accept. _

_Have a lovely day,_

_Dahlia Raymond, head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures_

* * *

Two days later, Hermione was once again in her beautiful red bridesmaid dress, but it wasn't for the purpose of admiring the gown in the mirror; it was the day of Ginny's wedding. Her hair was in a beautiful and tight bun, with a few loose strands that framed her face.

Hermione hadn't told anyone about the job yet, because she didn't want to butt in during Ginny's time to shine, so she was planning to announce the news after the wedding.

At that current moment in time, Ginny was throwing up everything that was in her stomach, and it wasn't all from nerves; Hermione was holding her friend's hair back from her face.

At that moment, Mrs. Weasley bustled in, positively beaming; that is, however, until she saw the state of her daughter. Her radiant smile turned into a disapproving expression. "_Ginevra Weasley-_" she shouted, but lowered her voice to a hushed whisper. "Are you... are you _pregnant_?"

Ginny slowly raised her head, wobbling on her knees, and offered her mother a weak smile. "A bit," she rasped.

Molly looked up to the ceiling in disbelief. "Oh!" she cried out sarcastically. "That's just... that's just lovely!" Her exasperation quickly turned into defeat, and she pulled out a small vial from her handbag, handing it to her daughter. "Here, take this. It will stop the 'morning' sickness for the time being, so you'll be fine for the duration of the wedding."

While Hermione rubbed circles into Ginny's back as she drank the contents of the vial, she turned back to Mrs. Weasley with her eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. "Why have you been keeping that with you if you didn't know that Ginny was pregnant?" she asked.

"Oh, well I had my suspicions," Molly responded. "Plus, with this new law, I figured that _someone _around here would be with-child eventually, and thought that it might be useful to keep the potion around."

Hermione nodded in agreement as Ginny began to rise from the porcelain throne, looking much better than she had five minutes previous.

"Now," she continued, reaching for Ginny's arm and pulling her over to the nearest sink, towel in hand. "Let's get you cleaned up."

* * *

"Smile!"

Suddenly, a bright white flash appeared directly in front of Hermione's eyes, and she stumbled, momentarily blinded. As she regained her balance, she squinted, making out the shape of a large wizarding camera.

"Dennis!" Hermione exclaimed as the young boy lowered his gadget. "What are you doing here?"

The Creevey tilted his head in confusion. "Didn't Ginny tell you? I'm the photographer for her wedding! Well, one of them, at least. I wanted to get some pictures before the ceremony started; I already got some of Harry earlier. Let me tell you, he is a nervous wreck."

As he babbled on about the wedding and his photography, Hermione looked around. Everyone was bustling around the dressing room in excitement.

Today was going to be magical.

* * *

"Is everybody decent?" Arthur Weasley called as he walked into the room, his hand covering his eyes.

Mrs. Weasley swatted his hand away. "Of course everyone is decent!" she reprimanded. "The wedding is started in-" she paused to look at the clock, "five minutes! How irresponsible would it be if everyone weren't at _least _dressed by now?!"

Arthur ignored his stressed wife to open his arms to his stressed daughter, who was literally shaking. "Oh, Ginny, you look positively beautiful! Harry is a lucky man!" At this, Ginny turned to him, letting herself get lost in his arms.

Hermione turned back to Molly. "Is everyone ready? Is everything in place?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded. "It's as good as it will ever be."

"I probably should have asked this before, but what is the difference between a muggle wedding ceremony and a magic one?" Hermione questioned.

Molly shrugged. "I don't believe I'm the correct one to answer that, seeing as Arthur is the one who understands muggles better than I, but I'm guessing that _muggles _don't ride away after the wedding on a broom."

Flying? She would have to fly? Boy did that sound... awful. Hermione laughed nervously. "Yes, I suppose one could assume that. But," she continued. "What if neither of the people getting married knew how to fly? And what if something went wrong?" Hermione knew that Draco could fly, but she was just downright curious.

"Well, the brooms are charmed, of course!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed in a matter-of-fact tone. "They make special brooms in the Ministry that you can set a destination for, and then it flies you there automatically. And there's a special shield on the broom that prevents anyone riding it from falling off."

"Oh," was all Hermione responded with. Well, that made her feel a little bit better. But only a little bit.

"Oh my!" Molly exclaimed. "It's time to start! Positions, everyone!" With that, the excited woman rushed off to the hall outside.

* * *

**Hey, sorry, I know I said the wedding was going to be this chapter, but then I started writing about everything BUT the wedding, and I didn't want to wait too long. I promise you, there is no way I can avoid the wedding chapter now. **

**Leave a review!**

**Until next time,**

**Aubreena**


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